


Overheard

by OneFail_AtATime



Series: Arya x Gendry Week 2018 [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, Reunions, Season/Series 07, Season/Series 08, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 04:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneFail_AtATime/pseuds/OneFail_AtATime
Summary: Arya remembers the last time a ruler came to Winterfell and this time she vows to take precautions, to protect her family. Except she didn't expect to see the face of a ghost arrive alongside her brother and she certainly didn't plan on eavesdropping.





	Overheard

**Author's Note:**

> Concerned about what the Dragon Queen's arrival to Winterfell could mean for her family, Arya dons a face and spies on the new arrivals to the castle. She just doesn't realize how difficult it would be to be a No One when surrounded by those she called her family.

It wasn’t difficult for Arya Stark to remember the last time a ruler had come to Winterfell. That visit had changed her entire world. Bran had been injured. Jon had left for the Wall. Then she, Sansa, and her father had ridden South with the King and her father had never returned. Looking back, everything had changed for the worst in that moment so she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t allow her family to be caught unawares this time around. Dragon Queen be damned. She would protect her family, even if it meant giving up being Arya Stark in order to spy on every single person who crossed through the gates.

She would be lying if she didn’t admit that it was difficult to watch her brother arrive and not immediately run into his arms. That reaction would have been for a different Arya, a helpless Arya who had been unable to protect her family. And so she remained in the shadows of the upper landing, disguised as a serving girl and hidden by the hordes of people, foreign and Northern, who filled Winterfell’s main courtyard. She watched it all in silence, recognizing some familiar faces and committing the new ones to memory. It was always Jon’s voice that pulled her back. He had turned to his men and announced that there would be supper in the hall for everyone. And then he spoke a name that had been long forgotten, a name that belonged to yet another person she had cared for who was now long dead.

Or so Arya had thought.

“Gendry!” Jon called, “Don’t you dare spend all night in your new forge, alright? You deserve a break.”

A piece of Arya that she had ignored for so long seemed to crack at the name when it had been spoken aloud, only for that same piece to shatter absolutely when the man in question came into her line of sight. It _was_ him. She knew it was him. Even from a distance and with his closely cropped hair and black beard grown from weeks of travel, she knew it was him. His eyes were the same, his smirk was the same, and those same features brought a flood of memories that she thought she had buried away ages before.

She hated herself for the emotions that followed the memories, emotions that threatened to spill and ruin her steady, calm demeanor. And she hated him for coming back from the dead when she had mourned the loss of him so long ago. She was a fighter and a trained assassin. She was a Faceless Man. She wouldn’t allow herself, _couldn’t_ allow herself to feel whatever it was that had unsettled her breathing and distracted her from her focus, her _purpose._

 _How could it be him?_ She thought to herself as she fell deeper into the shadows of the castle in order to disappear as quickly as she had appeared upon the arrival. He _couldn’t_ be here. He _couldn’t_ be serving _her brother_. Hadn’t he refused to do the very same thing all those years prior? Hadn’t he refused to be _her family_?

Arya’s emotions were a jumbled mess for the rest of the day. Her private reunion with Jon gave her time to push the confusing memories from her mind and she allowed herself to focus on the fact that her brother was whole, and safe. Her brother, The King in the North, was _home._

“But how did you even escape King’s Landing?” Jon had asked, startling her to her core because of the recent events.

She didn’t answer, she _couldn’t_ answer.

Her escape from King’s Landing would forever be tied to Gendry and after seeing him alive and well and _serving her brother_ , she wasn’t sure she wanted to say anything. And though she didn’t want to say anything, she did want to _know_ everything.

Leaving Jon behind, she chose the servant’s face one more and began to watch.

She found _him_ in the courtyard outside the master forge and began to watch him silently, taking in every detail. Gone was the boy who had been full of teasing smirks and glares that she used to throw crabapples at whenever he annoyed her. In that boy’s place was a young man who had already taken charge of his surroundings. It didn’t escape her notice how he acted differently. And physically, he was stronger. There was no doubting that in the way he worked to lift the crates and barrels of supplies needed for the forge. But she also noted the darker side in the way he carried himself, as if he had been fighting something far longer than any person should have to. It was the lack of joking with the men and the absence of a smile that roused her suspicions.

 _What had he been through?_ Arya couldn’t help but to wonder. She had changed immensely on her own from the last time they had been together. How much had he changed?

Gone was Arry the orphan, Nan, Beth, and the countless other names she had used to secure her safety. She pondered how much she herself had changed as she followed servers into the Great Hall and pledged to maintain the fires in the hearths, which would give her the best vantage point in the hall. And so it was from that spot where she saw Gendry enter the hall with the man she now knew to be Ser Davos, Jon’s adviser. _Does that mean he is Jon’s adviser as well?_ Gendry certainly seemed friendly with her brother. Jon had stood when the two men had arrived and jokingly thanked Davos for pulling the smith away. _They’re close_. She mused. It comforted her as the night continued and she moved to tend to the fires and watch those in the hall, her gaze constantly drawn back to where Gendry sat supping with Ser Davos. His blue eyes darted across the hall at frequent intervals and there was a moment, the briefest of moments, when his eye had met hers, and she fought the rush of emotions once more. And though his stormy blue gaze held no warmth, she still felt the comfort that his gaze used to bring during their years together. And as the night carried on, it became more and more difficult to keep her cover. She learned from overheard conversations that Jon and Gendry had gone beyond the Wall together, had fought together. They had traveled up and down the coast of Westeros together, had fought together, and according to Ser Davos, _“got into more trouble than (my) seven sons combined”._

The hall began to empty but Gendry remained, his clouded gaze still darting around the hall as if watching for something. _Could he have been watching for her?_ Her stomach flipped at the thought and she forced herself to continue on with her servant’s role.

It was Jon who surprised her by abandoning the King’s Table to join Gendry and Davos. He slumped with his back against the table and sighed. “I don’t know about you but I could sleep for ages,” Jon muttered as he leaned against the bench and accepted the mug of ale that Davos had passed to him.

“Didn’t you sleep all the way from Eastwatch to King’s Landing?” Gendry quipped. Memories of nights spent teasing one another stirred within Arya at his comment.

“Excuse me,” her brother protested. “I had a near death experience.”

“Yet _another_ near death experience.” Davos reminded him pointedly. “You both returned frozen and near death. And don’t you go teasin’ and fightin’ one another again, ya hear? You’ve had too much drinkin’ for any sparrin’.”

“Ah, Davos.” Jon drawled out, reminding Arya of countless times when he and Robb had protested any of their father’s cautionary speeches. Jon smiled despite the man’s protest. “You know, I’m sorry my sister wasn’t here. She always got into trouble. You’d get along with her.”

That did it.

Arya held her breath as she turned slowly, still sweeping the floor in order to remain invisible as she gauged their reactions. Her loss of breath was not unrewarded. Davos and Gendry had exchanged a knowing look, one that said there was more to the story. And so when Jon began to speak again, Gendry cleared his throat to interrupt.

“Look, Jon…” Gendry began as he nervously glanced around the hall once more. “We trained and fought beside one another. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Jon nodded with a grin. “Bastard brothers in arms.” His gray gaze narrowed in confusion. “What’s all this about, Gendry?”

Gendry exhaled loudly, letting go of a breath she was sure he had been holding for far too long. The way he clenched and unclenched his jaw was a nervous tick that she was still able to recognize, after all these years. “We’ve become _good_ friends, Jon. Both you and Davos helped me find a purpose in this war …. But I’ve been lyin’.”

Arya continued to sweep the floor, though her gaze never broke from the three men across the hall. “Go on.” Jon’s voice was cautious, as if preparing for the worst.

But Gendry was refusing to make eye contact. Instead, he focused on the grip he had on his mug of ale as he gained the strength to speak. “I-I knew your sister…Arya. We ran from the Lannisters together. She trusted me with her name when no one else knew and we trusted one another with our lives.”

“Why not tell me then?” Jon’s voice was dark with accusation. “If you were so close with my sister, why not tell me?”

“Because I thought she was dead!” Gendry blurted in defense. Arya felt a stab of shock at the abrupt pain that was so clear in his voice. His words broke her as he continued to speak. She could tell he was fighting tears and it made her disguise that much harder to maintain. In their years together, she had never seen him cry. “We were separated when the Brotherhood sold me. They were planning to take her to your brother, Robb. Davos helped me escape, I heard the news about the Red Wedding, and oh gods, Jon…” Gendry’s voice cracked. “I felt every bit the bastard of Flea Bottom because I couldn’t _protect her_. I couldn’t _save her_.”

Gods, why had she decided to wear a face? The feelings stirred inside her. All the emotions she had fought to control felt like a raging storm within her heart.

“And now?” Her king brother was staring at his friend, _their friend_ , as if only clearly seeing him for the first now. “Now that you know she’s alive?”

Gendry closed his eyes, presumably in order to collect his thoughts. When he finally opened them, he looked directly at Jon in order to meet his king’s gaze. “Until we were on the run, I hadn’t had a true friend before, or family. But your sister?” From across the hall, Arya could see the brilliant blue of his eyes that were brimming with tears. “Arya was both. She was my best friend and my family.” He paused once more to turn towards the hearth, his gaze staring into the flames. “We’re honest with one another, Jon. It’s why we’re friends. Believe me when I say that all I want is to be able to prove myself to the both of you. I want to _fight_ alongside both of you.”

The breath rushed out of her. _‘I can be your family’_ rang through her ears. Everything felt like a crumbling mess as she replayed his words. _‘Arya was both’._ What did he mean by that? What _could_ he mean by that?

Once again, Jon’s voice interrupted to bring her back to reality. “I owe you more than my life if you kept my sister alive.” Jon paused, as if purposely considering his words. “I understand why you didn’t mention Arya. I thought she was dead as well and it _hurt_ to think about her, so I won’t hold it against you.” From where she stood watching, Arya could see his smile grow into a teasing grin. “But you know, after your reunion with her, I need to hear about your time together. You must have a few stories.”

A shaky laugh escaped Gendry, something that made her want to throw her arms around him and her own reaction scared her. _Stories indeed_. She mused her own reactions as she watched the three men bid one another goodnight. Each parted ways. What _would_ Jon think after learning everything? A flush of warmth flooded through her and she accepted that it would have to be a reaction that she tied to Gendry, though she refused to admit _why._ She abandoned the hall once the men had left and rushed to her room in an effort to become herself once more, which was an odd sensation. Hadn’t she spent years telling herself that she wasn’t Arya Stark?

And yet, she _wanted_ to be Arya Stark. She wanted to find her friend and put the infernal jumble of emotions to rest. But if there was anything that the overheard conversation had helped her to realize, it was that of all things, she wanted to be _m’lady_.

**Author's Note:**

> JON AND GENDRY ARE THE BROMANCE THAT WAS PROMISED. 
> 
> Yet another possible Arya x Gendry reunion, though I don't think Arya would actually be wearing a face when Jon and Dany arrive in Winterfell. The Arya x Gendry week prompt was 'Eavesdropping' and so naturally I had to use the best of Arya's abilities. This was posted on Tumblr ages ago. With Season 8 approaching, I thought it was time to share it with everyone. I love the idea of Gendry being openly emotional at the idea of seeing Arya while she is fighting the flurry of emotions that her bull headed smith would bring with him. 
> 
> Thoughts and comments are always appreciated. Posting my work is still new to me but I do enjoy character - Season 8 discussions! I've written other Gendrya one shots and started my first fic so check them out if you're like my and impatient for April!


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